


A Brush with Destiny

by TeenCaterpillar



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Use, First Meetings, Fluff, Frottage, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, M/M, Making Out, Meet-Cute, One Shot, Recreational Drug Use, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 03:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeenCaterpillar/pseuds/TeenCaterpillar
Summary: “Dude, are you a fucking toothbrush?” Richie turned around, grinning.  The dude was some guy who was dressed as a shitty fucking pirate, obviously drunk, but he looked appropriately wowed by Richie’s fuckingamazingcostume.  It was detailed, smoothly carved, and his face was in the middle of the bristles with his fucking dorky ass glasses.  It looked pretty fucking realistic if he said so himself.  Just huge.  Like his dong.  “No fucking way!”  Richie snorted.“Yes, fucking way, my dude.” The guy jerked his thumb over his shoulder.“There’s another guy here dressed as toothpaste,” he said.  Richie’s eyebrows shot up.  “I just saw him.”





	A Brush with Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I was inspired by watching Jenna Marbles. Yes this is dumb and ridiculous.
> 
> Hope you like it as much as I do.
> 
> Unbeta'd
> 
> Tagged Explicit cuz I'm paranoid

The party was in full swing by the time Richie and Bev arrived. It was in some large house on Main, the street was party central, and it was hopping. There was someone outside crying already and Richie had already smoked a _lot_ of pot and was really looking forward to some shots. Whoever was hosting had apparently done some actual planning, seeing as there were jack o’ lanterns, lights, and skeletons everywhere. Also that fake cobweb shit. It was fucking _awesome_.

“Let’s find the booze!” Bev shouted in his ear. He nodded eagerly, shooting finger guns at her. She rolled her eyes with a smile and pulled him along until they came upon a table of punch.

“Jackpot!” Richie crowed, throwing his arms up. They both grabbed some cups and filled them almost to the brim. Richie was about to sip it, but paused. He looked at Bev, who looked at him and they smiled. Then, they chugged their punch as fast as they fucking could. Richie felt some run down his chin, probably soaking into the foam of his costume.

Now, Richie isn’t someone you’d call _humble_. If he was good at something, he told you. Even if he sucked at something, he pretended he didn’t because it was _hilarious, thank you very much_. But he had been planning his costume since the semester _started_ and it had fucking paid off. He’d gotten Bev’s help with some of the detailing and painting, she really was the best for it, but he had done the bulk of cutting and putting it together. And he looked fucking _GREAT_.

“Dude, are you a fucking toothbrush?” Richie turned around, grinning. The dude was some guy who was dressed as a shitty fucking pirate, obviously drunk, but he looked appropriately wowed by Richie’s fucking _amazing_ costume. It was detailed, smoothly carved, and his face was in the middle of the bristles with his fucking dorky ass glasses. It looked pretty fucking realistic if he said so himself. Just huge. Like his dong. “No fucking way!” Richie snorted.

“Yes, fucking way, my dude.” The guy jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

“There’s another guy here dressed as toothpaste,” he said. Richie’s eyebrows shot up. “I just saw him.”

“No shit?” Richie was a little surprised. Not like he was the only person to go as a dental hygiene product, but who else was as weird as he was to do that for _Halloween Hookup Hullabaloo_. At least, that was the nickname for the party. At least, that was _Richie’s_ nickname for the party. Someone he knew, and quite a few others, would end up hooking up with someone at the party every year. Not like that didn’t happen at other parties, but it was almost tradition at this point. And, weirdly enough, all the people they had hooked up with, had ended up staying in their lives. It was actually how Riche had met Bev. It’s been a hell of a night, but they quickly realized that they worked better at friends.

Anyway, at a party that was notorious for being a place for picking up someone for the night, it was unusual for someone to dress as something not sexy. Like, inherently unsexy. Not that bad breath was sexy, but like, toothpaste wasn’t exactly _titillating_. He needed to see this guy’s costume. He locked eyes with Bev and jerked his head in the same direction the drunk pirate had pointed. She nodded, refilling their cups, before following him into the other room. It was the dance floor. It was lined with couches where people were talking. There was a decent crowd in the large room, bodies rolling together to some remix of a song Richie’s probably heard before. But he can’t focus on the song because _holy fuck_.

Toothpaste isn’t titillating, but this guy sure as hell _is_. He was in a loose white muscle top and tight white skinny jeans, the shirt delicately painted with a very accurate Crest logo. The pants were fucking _sinful_, cupping his gorgeous ass in a way that made Richie want to sink his teeth into those perky cheeks. And he was wearing _a little hat_. It was shaped like the cap. _Fuck_. He gripped Bev’s arm and leaned over.__

“Toothpaste, 2 o’ clock.” He pointed, making the gesture as small as possible, and saw her eyes widen when she noticed him. She covered her mouth, hiding a laugh, looking at Richie with bright eyes.

“Go talk to him,” she said, giving him a gentle nudge. 

“Come with?” Richie didn’t want to admit it, but he was nervous. This guy had his arms crossed and a stern look on his face, that was honestly cuter than it should be. Bev smiled a little and nodded.

“Yeah, alright.” She took the lead, heading over and giving a small cheer to catch his attention. “Oh my god! No way!” The guy looked at her, eyebrow raised, the other shooting up when he saw Richie behind her.

“What,” he said, voice flat.

“This, my dude, is fate,” Richie said, putting on ihs best charming smile. The guy’s eyebrows stayed up, but he looked intrigued.

“What the actual fuck,” the guy laughed, eyeing Richie. With a grin, Richie held out his arms.

“Now all we need,” he said, “Is some floss!” And, much to his horror, his body began to move of its own violation, doing The Floss. The guy was gaping, looking torn between laughing and yelling.

“Did you actually just fucking do that?” He asked incredulously. Richie looked up when he heard someone holding back laughter, finally noticing that the guy was _here with someone_. A fucking _handsome_ someone, at that. He looked like a fucking model, what the fuck. He was dressed as, _oh my god_, Riker, from Star Trek Next Gen. Richie eyed him because, well, _fuck_. He had eyes. But he noticed the way the guy blushed when he looked at Bev and got giddy for a whole other reason. He looked back at Sexy Toothpaste to share a conspiratorial look, but the guy was looking away. Richie licked his lips and put on a smile.

“Seriously though, did you lose a bet or something?” Richie asked. The guy looked at him again, relaxing slightly and nodding.

“I did, actually.” He pointed at Riker. “I bet Ben that I’d wear a sexy toothpaste costume if he wore his nerdiest costume, and so here we are.” He shrugged. Then, he eyed Richie. “You?”

“Hilarious _and_ awesome,” he replied. “Bev helped me make it while she made her costume,” which was a stage worthy Peter Pan costume, fake elf ears attached and all, “because I like, needed to look like a street mascot.” The guy snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m Richie, by the way. Richie Trashmouth Tozier.”

“Makes sense, since everything that comes out of your mouth is garbage,” he replied. 

“Yowza!” Richie breathed. The guy smirked.

“I’m Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.” He held out his hand and Richie took it, bringing it to his lips for a kiss instead of shaking it. Which only kind of worked, since his face was amidst plastic straw bristles. Eddie blushed, but rolled his eyes. He was _cute_ when he blushed. Richie let go of his hand. He looked at Bev and Ben and the two were deep in conversation.

“...is a classic design!” Ben was saying.

“Classic isn’t always good! Sometimes, it needs something more abstract to make a punch.” Bev had he hands on her hips and a smile on her face. Ben looked like her thought she hung the moon. Richie looked at Eddie, who had a small smile on his face. Richie nodded to the back door.

“Smoke?” Richie asked. It was the wrong choice, because Eddie scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“No,” he said. Bev was gonna kill him, but--

“What about a joint?” Richie asked. Eddie tilted his head, contemplating.

“I’ve, uhm, I’ve never smoked before.” He looked down, twiddling his fingers. Richie smiled.

“Well, let me pop your cherry,” he said, smirking flirtatiously. Eddie’s eyes widened and he turned red, before turning on his heel and stomping out the door.

“Cute, cute, _cute_,” Richie whispered to himself. He followed Eddie onto the back porch, passing his short strides easily and leading him farther out into the yard. “Don’t wanna share,” Richie mumbled before lighting the joint. He got it burning evenly, taking a beautiful, beautiful drag, before holding it out to Eddie. Who looked at it like it might bite him. He exhaled, blowing the smoke up, before holding it near his lips again. “Okay, watch. So you inhale, all the way into your lungs, not just your mouth,” he did so, exhaling as he spoke, “And then you blow it out. You can do it through your nostrils or your mouth. Whatever you prefer.” Eddie nodded, though he still looked concerned, and took the joint. He took a small puff, coughing immediately. Richie grabbed the joint and rubbed Eddie’s back. But Eddie didn’t stop coughing, and his breath was getting short. He fumbled at his pocket, pulling out his inhaler, before pausing. Richie was horrified. “I’m so sorry! You should have said you had asthma!” Eddie held up a hand when Richie moved to help, which he guessed he deserved. He should have asked.

“It’s fine,” Eddie wheezed out. His breath was sounding normal again, though he still had his eyes closed, one hand resting on his knee, the other clutching his inhaler. He put it away, swallowing. “I don’t actually have asthma,” he said. “My-- Well, it’s a long story.” He trailed off, looking away. Richie was fucking tipsy, which is what he later blamed on what he said, though it wasn’t even the main reason.

“We could shotgun,” Richie blurted out. Eddie made a face.

“What?” He looked so confused and Richie swallowed.

“I inhale it into my mouth, and then I blow it into yours,” he explained, licking his lips. Eddie’s eyes widened a fraction before darting to Richie’s lips and then his eyes again. Fear flickered across his face before it was replaced by determination. He nodded once, jerkily. So Richie inhaled, taking in a decent amount of smoke, and pursed his lips, gesturing for Eddie to lean in. He did so, opening his mouth. Richie reached up, brushing his thumb on Eddie’s bottom lip and gently pressing his mouth open more. He blew the smoke into his mouth, thrilled at the shocked gasp it elicited from Eddie. He inhaled, pulling back to breathe out shakily. Richie inhaled the rest of the smoke in his mouth before exhaling through his nose. Eddie looked at him and Richie was caught up in his beautiful brown eyes, the way his lashes looked, the cute crease between his brows. Eddie moved forward, getting into Richie’s space.

“Again?” He asked breathlessly. Richie nodded and they did it again, and again, and again. The final time, Eddie didn’t pull back, crowding Richie against the tree. It was fucking _hot_.

“Fuck,” Richie grunted, biting his lip. Eddie watched him, before looking into his eyes. Richie could swear his heart stopped in that moment. They surged together as one, bumping noses and clacking their teeth. They both hissed in pain before moving back in, gentler this time. It was a heated kiss and Richie fumbled to put the joint out against the tree. Once he had, he put the remaining half back in his pocket, freeing his hands grab Eddie by the hips and pull him closer.

It was then the plastic straws got in the way.

“Ah, fuck!” Eddie yelped, pulling back. His hat had been knocked off, his face was flushed and Richie felt his dick twitch. “Those are so fucking annoying!” Eddie pouted. Eddie was _pouting_. Richie was stoned and tipsy and couldn’t help himself.

“Cute, cute, cute!” He said, pinching Eddie’s cheek. Eddie gaped at him, offended.

“I’m fucking handsome, you dick!” He snarled. Richie smiled.

“Eddie Spaghetti,” which got a noise of outrage, “Why don’t we go back to mine?”

“Not after you called me _that_,” he replied testily. Richie brushed his face with his costume, making Eddie shove him back with a screech. Richie laughed, harder than he had in awhile, and was delighted when he saw Eddie standing there with his arms crossed.

“Come on,” Richie teased. “You love it.” Eddie blushed and looked away. Richie got in his space, smiling teasingly. “We could keep trying to kiss while I’m in costume then,” he suggested. Eddie scrunched up his nose again. Richie gave him his best puppy dog eyes. They didn’t seem to work. “Pwease--”

“Oh my god,” Eddie whined, tossing his hands up, “If I say yes will you shut up?” He crossed his arms, but Richie could see the corners of his mouth twitching. He was holding back a smile. Richie mimed zipping his mouth up. Eddie rolled his eyes but took Richie’s hand.

“I gotta get the other half of this joint to Bev, then we can go,” Richie called, so Eddie could hear over the noise of the party. Bev and Ben had moved to the kitchen, both drunk and arguing about poetry.

“The beats in that stanza are shit,” Bev slurred. Ben opened his mouth, aghast.

“You’re joking!” He was leaning on the counter for support, finger pointing at her face. “You take that back.” Bev grinned, crossing her arms.

“Hello, love birds,” Richie shouted. They jumped, but Bev smiled when she saw him.

“Richie!” She hugged him, smacking a kiss to his cheek. “Where have you been? I’ve been having such a good talk with Ben.” She gestured to him, and he waved shyly.

“Went outside to smoke,” he waggled his brows, tucking the leftover joint into her bra. She looked down, smiled, and looked back up. “Thought you should have this before we head out.” He nodded towards Eddie, who blushed. Bev tried not to smile, puckering her lips, but it was useless. Richie groaned and gently pushed her away. “I’ll see you later, okay?” She nodded, grinning, and he turned back to Eddie. He was looking away, cheeks still red, and Richie took his hand, startling him. “Ready?”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here. It’s disgusting.” Eddie wrinkled his nose at a stain on the floor and Richie laughed.

The air was cool and it sobered Richie up a little bit. Eddie had let go of his hand when they were outside, looking nervous, so Richie hadn’t pushed it. They walked close, though, shoulders occasionally bumping. Richie itched for a smoke, then remembered Eddie’s earlier disgust. But, shit he needed one.

“What?” Eddie said. Richie shook away his thoughts, blinking.

“What?”

“You keep looking at me all worried. I’m not gonna change my mind, if that’s what you think,” he said, serious. Richie chuckled.

“No, no. I just need a smoke is all. But,” he shrugged, “You don’t like it, so…”

“You can,” he said, not making eye contact. “If you want. Just, don’t blow the smoke at me, okay?” Richie raised his brows, but nodded. He took out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling sharply. Eddie watched him, eyes wide. Then he pouted and looked away sharply. Interesting.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“That was definitely something,” he teased. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“It’s… Hotter than I thought it would be,” he grumbled. Richie blinked.

“Huh?”

“You, smoking that, that thing,” he stammered. He blushed furiously, Richie could see in the light of the street lamps. “It’s hotter than I thought it would be.” Richie licked his lips and took another drag, remembering to blow the smoke away.

“Oh yeah?” Richie made sure his voice was husky, giving into the rasp from the smoke. Eddie swallowed and started walking faster.

“How much fucking farther,” he demanded.

“Not that much,” Richie said with a smile.

When they finally, _finally_ got to Richie’s apartment, he started pulling at the costume. Eddie helped him, tugging on the top. It slid off, leaving Richie in his black shirt and pants. Eddie eyed him and licked his lips. Richie’s breath hitched and his dick twitched in his pants. Eddie pushed him up against the door, kissing him deeply. Richie kissed back. It was fucking incredible. Eddie lightly brushed his tongue against Richie’s, swirling it as he pulled away. Richie bit his lip gently, making Eddie’s breath hitch. He kissed him, pushing him towards the bedroom. Eddie let Richie guide him by the hips, which was a fucking turn on, thudding against the door and knocking it open. They stumbled together, Eddie ending on the bed while Richie was perched on one knee against the bed above him. They kissed again, Eddie pulling Richie’s face to his. Richie groaned. He was so bossy. Richie _loved_ it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, moving down to kiss Eddie’s throat. Eddie whined, tangling his fingers into Richie’s hair. Richie bit gently, licking and sucking, biting a little harsher. He worked on Eddie’s neck until he was shuddering beneath him.

“F-Fuck, Rich,” Eddie panted. “Fuck.”

“Want me to squeeze your tube?” Richie asked, breathless. Eddie froze, still flushed and turned on, but he sat up on his elbows, giving Richie and incredulous look.

“What the _FUCK_?!” He gaped. “You did _not_ just ask me that. No fucking way.” Richie grinned. Eddie groaned and fell back when he reached down and rubbed at his groin. Eddie humped into his palm, biting his lower lip. “Why the fuck do I think you’re hot.” Richie’s eyes widened.

“_I’m_ hot? Have you seen your ass?” He smacked it for emphasis. Eddie jumped, blushing. “You’re so small but so fucking solid. What the hell? What kinda muscles are you hiding under there?”

“I like to run,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed. Richie inhaled sharply.

“That explains the thighs too, then.” He cupped Eddie, making him tilt his head back with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathed out. Eddie smiled and pulled Richie down for a kiss. He swatted his hand away, pushing Richie off. Richie whined. He actually _whined_.

“Just, fuck, just fucking lay down.” Richie did so, turned on by the bossy tone. Fuck, he was so _fucked_. Eddie mounted him, grinding their erections together and the friction, with the fabric between them, was dulled and teasing. Richie gripped Eddie’s hips, bucking up to meet him. Eddie balanced himself with a hand, leaning down and kissing Richie messily, his hips moving quickly now. Richie met each thrust, moving his hands to cup Eddie’s ass and pull him closer. Eddie moaned into his mouth, stiffening up, and Richie opened his eyes, coming as he saw Eddie’s face scrunched in pleasure, fingers curling against his chest. Richie grunted and tilted his head back, panting harshly.

“S-Sh-Shit,” he stuttered. “Fuck. I haven’t come in my pants in so fucking long, what the hell,” he rested his hands on Eddie’s thighs, Eddie still on top of him. Eddie wrinkled his nose.

“Oh fuck, you’re right. Ugh that’s so fucking gross,” he groused, getting off of Richie. He followed the movement, grabbing some wet wipes from his night stand and some sweats from the clean pile of laundry in his basket.

“These are clean, I swear,” Richie said, handing both items to Eddie. He looked surprised, but grateful. He went on tiptoe, kissing the corner of Richie’s mouth.

“Thanks, Trashmouth,” he said, smirking. Richie grinned.

“Just wait till I show you what I can do with it,” he said. Eddie inhaled sharply.

“Fuck you.”

“Ooh, _please_!”

“Was that supposed to be British?”

“There was no supposed to be!”


End file.
